At two o’clock on the morning of the 11th of January the bugle sounded the reveillé and the troops prepared to cross the Buffalo. Tents were struck, baggage piled on the waggons, and the regiments stood to arms at half-past four. The native contingent crossed first. The cavalry brigade under Lieutenant-Colonel Russell placed their ammunition on a pontoon and rode over. The river was in some places up to the necks of the infantry, and even the cavalry were nearly swept away. The first and second battalions of the 24th crossed on the pontoons. The third regiment of the native contingent threw out skirmishers, but could find no trace of the enemy.
A heavy storm had come on at daybreak, but this left off at nine o’clock. Lieutenant-Colonel Buller, commanding the Frontier Light Horse, now rode in from the camp of Colonel Wood’s force, which had crossed the Blood River and had encamped in Zululand at a spot about thirty-two miles distant. Lord Chelmsford rode over there with an escort of the Natal Mounted Police and the Natal Carabineers, who on their return captured three hundred head of cattle, several horses, and a number of sheep and goats. During the day the waggons, oxen, and ambulances were brought across the river on the platoon.
Early next morning the 1st battalion of the 1st Native Regiment, four companies of the 1st battalion of the 24th, and 300 of the irregular horse started on a reconnaissance towards the kraal of Sirayo, the chief whose sons had been the greatest offenders in the raids into Natal. The cavalry were thrown out in skirmishing order, and after marching nine miles they descended into the slope of the valley in which Sirayo’s kraals were situated. The enemy were heard singing their war-songs in one of the ravines, and the 3rd Native Regiment advanced against them with the 24th in reserve. The Zulus opened fire as they approached, and so heavy was this that many of our natives turned and ran; they were rallied, however, and with a rush carried the caves in which the Zulus were lurking.
In the meantime the 24th’s men had moved round to the head of the ravine, and cut off the enemy’s retreat. There was a skirmish between the cavalry and some mounted Zulus, and six of these, including a son of Sirayo, were killed. Thirty horses and 400 head of cattle were captured.
The next day was spent in cleaning up arms and accoutrements, after the heavy rain which had fallen the preceding week, and several days were spent in making the roads passable for the waggons.
On the 20th the force moved forward, leaving one company of the 2nd battalion of the 24th, under Lieutenant Bromhead, with some engineers and a few natives to guard the ford and look after the platoons, and garrison the store and hospital. The column camped at Isandula, or, as it is more properly called, Isandwhlana, ten miles distant from Rorke’s Drift. A portion of the road was extremely rough, and the waggons had the greatest difficulty in making their way forward.
The spot selected for a camping-ground was a wide flat valley, with hills on the left and undulating ground on the right; almost in the centre rose an isolated hill, perpendicular on three sides, and very steep and difficult on the fourth. The camp was pitched in front of this hill, looking down the valley, with a mile of open country between it and the hills on the left.
The camp was formed in the following order: on the left were the two battalions of the 3rd Native Regiment; the Royal Artillery were in the centre; next to these was the 2nd battalion of the 24th. The line was then taken up by the cavalry, with the 1st battalion of the 24th on the right of the whole. The waggons were all placed between the camp and the hill at the back.
By a strange and criminal neglect no attempt was made to intrench this position, although it was known that the column might at any moment be attacked by the Zulus.
It was determined that the greater part of the force should advance the next morning towards a stronghold, ten miles distant from the camp, straight down the valley. News had come that a large number of Zulus were at this spot, and it was supposed that these would fight. The column consisted of eight companies of each of the battalions of the 3rd Native Regiment, with the greater part of the cavalry.
The force started early and marched for three hours down the valley. Here they came on much cultivated ground, but the kraals had been deserted by the enemy. At four o’clock, as the cavalry were skirmishing at a distance on both flanks, they came upon a body of Zulus about 2000 strong. The horse fell back upon the infantry, but, as it was now late, Major Dartnell decided to encamp for the night, and to attack in the morning. A messenger was despatched into camp with a report of the day’s proceedings, and some provisions and blankets were sent out, with news that the general would join the troops with reinforcements in the morning.
At daybreak he left the camp at Isandula with seven companies of the 2nd battalion of the 24th, and orders were sent to Colonel Durnford, at Rorke’s Drift, to bring up 200 mounted men and his rocket-battery, which had reached that spot.
The Zulus were seen in all directions, and a good deal of skirmishing took place. By a gross neglect, equal to that which was manifested in the omission to fortify the camp, no steps whatever were taken to keep up communication between the column, which now consisted of the greater part of the troops, and those who remained at the camp at Isandula. No signallers were placed on the hills, no mounted videttes were posted, and the column marched on, absorbed in its own skirmishes with the enemy, as if the general in command had forgotten the very existence of the force at Isandula. Even in the middle of the day, when the firing of cannon told that the camp was attacked, no steps were taken to ascertain whether reinforcements were needed there, and it was not until hours after all was over that a party was despatched to ascertain what had taken place at the camp.
Upon the day on which the two native regiments advanced, the two boys felt the time hang heavy on their hands; they would have liked to take their guns and go out to shoot some game for their dinners, but all shooting had been strictly forbidden, as the sound of a gun might cause a false alarm. After hanging about the camp for an hour or two, Dick proposed that they should climb the hill which rose so steeply behind them.
“If the columns have any fighting,” he said, “we should be sure to see it from the top.”
Borrowing a telescope from one of the officers of the volunteer cavalry, they skirted round to the back of the hill, and there began their climb. It was very steep, but after some hard work they reached the summit, and then crossed to the front and sat down in a comfortable niche in the rock, whence they could command a view far down the valley. They could see the two battalions of infantry marching steadily along, and the cavalry moving among the hills and undulations on both flanks. They had taken some biscuits and a bottle of beer up with them, and spent the whole day on the look-out. The view which they gained was a very extensive one, as the hill was far higher than those on either side, and in many places they could see small bodies of the enemy moving about. At sunset they descended.
“I vote we go up again,” Tom said the next morning. “The general has gone forward with most of the white troops, and there is sure to be fighting to-day. We shall have nothing to do, and may as well go up there as anywhere else.”
After the general’s departure there remained in camp five companies of the 1st battalion of the 24th, and one of the 2nd battalion, two field-pieces with their artillery men, and some mounted men.
Just as the boys were starting at eight in the morning, there was a report in the camp that the Zulus were gathering in force to the north of the camp. This quickened the boys’ movements and half an hour later they gained the top of the hill, and from their old position looked down upon the camp lying many hundred feet below them. There was considerable bustle going on, and the Kaffir drivers were hastily collecting the cattle which were grazing round, and were driving them into camp.
“There is going to be a fight!” Dick exclaimed, as they gained their look-out; “there are crowds of Zulus out there on the plains.”
Could the boys have looked over the hills a mile away to their right, they would have seen that the number of Zulus down in the valley in front was but a small proportion of those gathering for the attack; for 15,000 men had moved up during the night, and were lying quietly behind those hills, 3000 or 4000 more were taking the road to Rorke’s Drift, to cut off any who might escape from the camp, while as many more were showing down the valley. Altogether some 24,000 of the enemy had gathered round the little body in the camp. To the boys, however, only the party down the valley was visible.
At eleven o’clock Colonel Durnford came into camp with his 350 mounted men from Rorke’s Drift, and advanced with them to meet the enemy threatening the left flank, while two companies of the 1st battalion of the 24th moved out to attack their right. The Zulus, now reinforced from behind the hills, moved forward steadily, and Colonel Durnford with his cavalry could do little to arrest them. For an hour the infantry stood their ground, and the two field-pieces swept lines through the thick ranks of the enemy. The Zulus advanced in the form of a great crescent.
“Things look very bad, Dick,” Tom said; “what do you think we had better do?”
“I think we had better stay where we are, Tom, and wait and see what occurs; we have a splendid view of the fight, and if our fellows meet them we shall see it all; but if—oh, look there, Tom!”
Over the hills on the left thousands of Zulus were seen pouring down.
“This is terrible, Tom. Look here, I will crawl along over the crest, so as not to be seen, and look behind to see if it is clear there. If it is, I vote we make a bolt. It is of no use our thinking of going down for a couple of horses; the Zulus will be in the camp long before we could get there.”
Five minutes later he again joined his friend.
“They are coming up behind too, Tom. They have really surrounded us. Look, they are close to the camp!”
It was a scene of frightful confusion. Nothing could be seen of the companies of the 24th, which had gone out to meet the Zulus. The great wave of the advancing army had swept over them. Below, the panic was complete and terrible, and soldiers, native drivers, and camp-followers were running wildly in all directions.
One party of the 24th’s men, about sixty strong, had gathered together and stood like a little island. The incessant fire of their rifles covered them with white smoke, while a dense mass of Zulus pressed upon them. Many of the soldiers were flying for their lives; others again, when they found that their retreat was cut off, had gathered in groups and were fighting desperately to the last. Here and there mounted men strove to cut their way through the Zulus, while numbers of fugitives could be seen making for the river, hotly pursued by crowds of the enemy, who speared them as they ran.
“It is frightful, frightful, Tom! I cannot bear to look at it.”
For a few minutes the fight continued. The crack of the rifles was heard less frequently now. The exulting yell of the Zulus rose louder and louder. On the right Colonel Durnford with his cavalry essayed to make one last stand to check the pursuit of the Zulus and give time for the fugitives to escape; but it was in vain, showers of assegais fell among them, and the Zulu crowd surged round.
For a time the boys thought all were lost, but a few horsemen cut their way through the crowd and rode for the river. The artillery had long before ceased to fire, and the gunners lay speared by the cannons. The first shot had been fired at half-past eleven, by one o’clock all was over. The last white man had fallen, and the Zulus swarmed like a vast body of ants over the camp in search of plunder.
Horror-stricken and sick, the boys shrank back against the rock behind them, and for some time sobbed bitterly over the dreadful massacre which had taken place before their eyes. But after a time they began to talk more quietly.
“Will they come up here, do you think, Dick?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Dick replied. “They could hardly have seen us come up here, even if they had been on the look-out on the hills, and as they reached the back of the mountain before the camp was taken, they will know that nobody could have come up afterwards. Lie back here; we cannot possibly be seen from below. They will be too much taken up with plundering the camp to think of searching this hill. What on earth is the general doing?—I can see his troops right away on the plain. Surely he must have heard the guns? Our only hope now is that when he hears it he will march straight back; but, even if he does, I fear that the Zulus will be too strong for him. The whole force which he has with him is no stronger than that which has been crushed here, and I don’t expect the native regiments can make much stand if attacked by such a tremendously strong force.”
So long as the daylight lasted, the boys, peering occasionally over, could see the Zulus at the work of plundering. All the sacks and barrels were taken from the waggons and cut or broken open, each man taking as much as he could carry of the tea, sugar, flour, and other necessaries; many of the yoke-oxen were assegaied at once, and cut up and eaten, the rest being driven off towards the north by a party of warriors.
At nightfall the tents were set on fire; they soon burnt out, and the boys could no longer see what was taking place. Rising from the shelter, they walked back to the other side of the crest.
“I can hear firing now,” Dick said; “it seems to me that it is back at Rorke’s Drift.”
They were soon sure that they were not mistaken; as it grew darker a flittering light was seen in that direction, and a continued fire of distant musketry was heard. Later on there was a broad glare in the sky.
“I fear it is all over there too,” Dick said, “and that the place has been burnt.”
Still, however, the firing continued, as heavy as ever, and long on into the night the lads sat listening to it. At last they fell asleep, and when they awoke the sun was already high. Thus they missed their chance of escape.
At nine o’clock in the evening Lord Chelmsford’s force, hearing at last what had happened, marched back into the camp, and before day had fairly broken continued their way down to Rorke’s Drift. The defenders here, a little garrison, under Lieutenant Bromhead of the 24th, and Chard of the Royal Artillery, had made an heroic defence against some 4000 of the enemy. With mealy bags and boxes they built up a breastwork, and this they held all night, in spite of the desperate efforts of the Zulus to capture it. The hospital, which stood at one end of the intrenchment, was carried and burnt by the Zulus, but the little garrison held out till morning in an inner intrenchment round the store-house.
Here was seen what could be done in the way of defence by the aid of hastily-thrown-up intrenchments; and had breastworks been erected at Isandula, as they ought to have been the instant the troops arrived there, and still more so when the major portion of the column marched away, the force there, small as it was, would doubtless have made a successful resistance. Even had the step been taken, when the Zulus were first seen approaching, of forming a laager—that is, of drawing up the waggons in the form of a hollow square—at the foot of the steep mountain, the disaster might have been averted. It may be said that the massacre of Isandula was due entirely to the over-confidence and carelessness of the officers in command of the column.
The boys on waking crawled back cautiously to a spot where they could obtain a view over the valley, and, to their surprise, the force which, on the afternoon before, they had seen out there had entirely disappeared. Many bodies of Zulus were seen moving about, but there was no trace of the white troops. They made their way to the back of the hill, and then, to their horror, saw the column moving away from them, and already half-way on its road to Rorke’s Drift.
Their first impulse was to get up and start off in a run in pursuit of it, but this feeling lasted but a moment, for between the hill and the column many scattered parties of Zulus were to be seen. The boys looked blankly at each other. It was but too clear that they were cut off and alone in the enemy’s country.
“Whatever shall we do, Dick?”
“I have not the least idea, Tom. At any rate there is nothing to be done at present. We should be assegaied in a moment if we were to go down; let’s go back to our old look-out.”
After much talk they agreed that it would be hopeless to attempt to make south and cross the Buffalo, as many of the fugitives had done. There were sure to be strong bodies of Zulus along the river, and even if they passed these without detection they would be unable to cross the river, as they would find no ford, and neither of them was able to swim.
There were great numbers of Zulus in the camp below, and these seemed to be pursuing the work of plundering more minutely than they had done on the previous day. The stores scattered recklessly about were collected, placed in empty barrels, and loaded up on the waggons. Presently a number of cattle were brought down; these were harnessed to the waggons and driven off, and by nightfall nothing save scattered remnants marked the place where the British camp had stood. But from their post the boys could see that the ground far and near was dotted with corpses, black and white.
After nightfall the boys descended to the camp, and having marked the exact spot where the waggons had stood were able to collect a number of pieces of the broken biscuit scattered about; they were fortunate enough to light upon a water-bottle still full, and with these treasures they returned to the post on the mountain. They had agreed to wait there for three or four days, in fact as long as they could hold out, and then quietly to walk into one of the native kraals. If caught in the act of flight they were certain of being killed, but they hoped that when the Zulus’ blood had cooled down after the conflict their lives might possibly be spared.
This plan was carried out; for four days they remained on the hill of Isandula, and then descending late one evening to the plain walked for ten or twelve miles north, and waiting until daybreak showed them a large native kraal at no great distance, they made for it, and sat quietly down at the door of the principal hut. Presently a girl issued from a neighbouring hut, and, upon seeing them, gave a scream and ran back again. The cry brought others to the doors of the huts. When the boys were seen, a perfect hubbub of tongues broke forth, and many of the men, running out with their spears, advanced towards the lads. They sat perfectly quiet, and held up their hands to show that they were unarmed. The Zulus hesitated. Dick went through the motion of eating and drinking, and in his best Kaffir begged for a glass of water.
The Zulus, seeing that the boys were alone, approached them, and began to ask them questions, and were evidently much surprised at hearing that they had escaped from the massacre of the British. From the door of the hut in which they were sitting a chief, evidently of high rank, for the others greeted him respectfully, now came out.
After the cause of the tumult was explained to the chief, he ordered the boys to be bound. This was done and they were put into an empty hut while their fate was decided upon; after much deliberation it was agreed by the Zulus that, as they were but boys and had come into the camp unarmed and of their own accord, their lives should for the present be spared.
It happened that in the village were a party of men who belonged to the tribe of Umbelleni, whose territory lay to the north-west, and these volunteered to take the prisoners to their chief, who was one of the strongest opponents of the English. His country, indeed, lay just within the Zulu frontier, and, having been engaged in constant skirmishes and broils with the Dutch settlers, he was even more disappointed than the other chiefs at the taking over of the Transvaal by England, just at the time when the Zulus were meditating its conquest.
The road from Itelezi, the village at which the boys had given themselves up, to Umbelleni’s country ran along between the Blood River and the lofty hill-country; and, although they were ignorant of the fact, Colonel Wood’s force was at that moment lying on this line. They were therefore taken up over a mountain-country, crossing Mount Ingwe, to the Zlobani Mountain, a stronghold ten miles south of Umbelleni’s chief kraal, and where at present he was residing. After three days’ journey the lads, exhausted and footsore, ascended to the plateau of the Zlobani Mountains.
Upon their way they passed through many villages, and at each place it needed the efforts of their guards to prevent their being seriously maltreated, if not killed. The Zulus, although victorious at Isandula, had suffered terribly, it being estimated that nearly 3000 had fallen in the attack.
Thus there was not a village but had lost some of its members, for, although the Zulu regiments have local denominations and regular military kraals, each regiment consists of men drawn from the population at large.
Every four or five years all the lads who have passed the age of eighteen since the formation of the last corps, are called out and formed into a regiment, or are embodied with some regiment whose numbers have fallen in strength. Thus a regiment may consist of men differing considerably from each other in point of age, the great distinction being that some corps consist entirely of married men, while others are all unmarried. A regiment remains unmarried until the king formally gives the permission to take wives, and the corps to whom the boon has been granted are distinguished from the others by their hair being arranged in a thick ring round the head. So great is the enmity between these married regiments and their less fortunate comrades that they are never encamped in each other’s view, as fighting in that case would inevitably take place. Thus it happened that, although some of the corps had suffered far more than others, the loss was spread over the whole of Zululand.